


Reaching for the Moon

by shadowedrain



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Reflection, Tennis, The Championships Wimbledon, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22582126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowedrain/pseuds/shadowedrain
Summary: Andy reflects after Wimbledon and makes some realizations.Note: This is a repost from my livejournal
Relationships: Mirka Federer/Roger Federer (implied), Roger Federer/Andy Roddick
Kudos: 3





	Reaching for the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted in my livejournal back in 2010. It is set during the 2009 Wimbledon final.

The room was dark, the only light coming through the glass door from the moon in the night sky. Standing just inches from the glass was a lone figure, the unshed tears in his eyes glistening in the moonlight. He didn’t mind the darkness, in fact he welcomed it, matching the dark despair he felt as he thought back; hope crushed by agonizing defeat, it hurt. Closing his eyes, he could see the smile, though not his own, and the heartbreak evident in the tears he wouldn’t let fall, couldn’t let fall. And then his mind flashed to the present, standing in this dark, silent room, realizing how alone he was while _he_ was somewhere else, dancing and celebrating, that damn smile probably still plastered on his face. He wanted to feel anger, he wanted to feel hate, but instead he could only feel pain and a sense of loss.

Images ran through his head now at a dizzying rate; sets, points, a win stolen away by missed opportunities, and still that smile, one that would haunt him for some time. He could even picture it as _he_ celebrated, Mirka on his arm. Closing his eyes tighter, he suddenly felt the pain in his chest magnify, desperately wishing the images away, all of them, but they burned brightly before his eyes. Unable to take it anymore, he fell to his knees, head in his hands, a sob escaping his mouth.

Time lost meaning and, after what could have been a couple minutes or a couple hours, he finally looked up and opened his eyes. The images stopped spinning in his head and the tears long held in check flowed freely down his face. As he stared out of the glass once more, he saw the moon, really saw it.

‘The sun shines for him,’ he thought, ‘how could I hope to have it?’ Then, reaching upwards, he touched the glass. ‘At least let me have the moon.’

Lost in his thoughts, oblivious to everything but the sight before him and the thoughts drifting through his head, he missed it, the sound of a knock followed by a door opening, and soft, slow footfalls across the floor. It wasn’t until he felt a familiar presence on the floor next to him that he snapped out of his reverie with a small gasp, bringing his hand down slowly, as though afraid the moon would disappear. Then he turned his head and saw _him_ , sure what he was seeing was just another image conjured by his mind.

“Oh, Andy,” _he_ said, taking in the tear streaks on his face and the pain in his eyes.

Andy blinked his eyes a couple of times, hesitantly reaching out to touch the man next to him just to make sure what he saw and heard was real. “Roger?” he asked softly, not daring to believe it. “Are you real?”

A small, sad smile appeared on Roger’s face and Andy noticed how different it was from earlier. “Ja,” Roger confirmed. “I am real.”

“Then why?” he asked, and upon seeing Roger’s confusion, elaborated. “Why are you here?” What he really wanted to ask was ‘Why are you here with _me_?’, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Where else would I be?” Roger asked as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Andy stared at Roger incredulously. “But you won. Why aren’t you out celebrating?”

“I was,” Roger admitted, softly adding, “but it was not the same without you.”

“Oh,” Andy answered, not sure what to say.

Pausing a moment, Roger studied Andy carefully before deciding something. “Do you not want me here?”

Did he? The question rolled around in his head. “Yes – no – I - ,” Andy sighed, finally settling on, “I’m just not very good company right now.” He turned away from Roger and stared back out at the moon, the images from earlier creeping back into his mind, beckoning him back to the welcoming darkness.

Realizing he had lost Andy, Roger’s eyes followed him, trying to see what had captured his attention so thoroughly. For several moments that seemed an eternity, silence hung in the air as he, too, stared at the white orb. Finally, Roger broke the silence, as well as Andy’s reverie, once more. “You were doing that when I came in. You stare at it as though it holds the answers to all of life’s questions. Why?”

Although his thoughts had returned to the present, Andy continued to stare out into the night. He wondered if he should tell him of the thoughts that had been haunting him, the images. He even wondered if he should tell him what the moon really held, what he wanted. But surely, Roger would think him crazy, wouldn’t he? Of course, he would. Still… Knowing what he needed to do, he reached a conclusion; he was finished hiding.

Closing his eyes, Andy took a deep breath. He could do this. Opening them, he turned back to Roger. “I want the moon,” he said. Roger simply stared at him, so he continued. “I wanted the sun. I wanted it so badly to shine on me, just for once. And I was so close, _so close_.” He paused for a moment, not sure if he should continue, but Roger gave him a reassuring glance. “Then I realized…I can’t have it because it shines for you. Sometimes… Sometimes I think you _are_ the sun. Now, I just want the moon.” He gave Roger a pleading glance, the tears starting to fall down his face again. “Please just let me have that much.”

Roger sat there silently, not sure what to say. Not wanting the rejection he was sure to come, Andy looked away. Knowing he needed to do something, Roger reached out a hand, cupping Andy’s cheek and turning his head back towards him, staring him straight in the eyes. “Andy,” he said comfortingly, leaning forward to place a soft kiss to his forehead, “If I could, I would give you the moon, and the sun and the stars and…well, anything you wanted. I thought you knew, but I suppose I should have said it. You are my world. I love you.”

Andy choked out a laugh through the tears. “That was so clichéd, Roger.” They were both smiling now. “But thanks. I – I love you, too.”

“I know,” Roger said, leaning in and giving him a kiss, which Andy eagerly returned. When they pulled apart, Andy grabbed hold of Roger and started sobbing, finally able to release the emotions that had been overwhelming him, feeling relief as the pain began to ease. All the while Roger held him and rubbed his back, whispering soothing words into his ear.

Later, Andy would look at the moon again, this time with a smile on his face. As he stared at it, he decided he didn’t want it after all. In fact, he couldn’t understand why he ever wanted it in the first place. He turned to stare at the Swiss sleeping on the bed behind him. After all, why should he long for the moon when he already had the sun?


End file.
